Kaywantha
by Vicki Vance
Summary: A light mission for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turns out to require more involvement than originally planned. Ranges from deep drama to quip humor. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

KAYWANTHA

by Vicki Vance

Summary: A light mission for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turns out to require more involvement than originally planned. Ranges from deep drama to quip humor. 

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so I am making no profit from this.

Author's note: You get a golden balloon if you can tell me what the meaning of a certain planet's name is. Here's a clue: it has nothing to do with Star Wars.

Normally, the senator's aide didn't mind being an aide; he was really a student at Razz University of Corsucant planning to major in dentistry, particularly that of Humans, Firrereo, and any other carbon-based being that didn't have sharp molars or frightfully long incisors. Twi'leks, for instance, who regularly took time to sharpen their teeth, did not appeal to him at all. He didn't ever want to look into the mouth of a feline Togorian. He'd even once had a nightmare that a Hutt had needed cavities filled and he had to actually climb inside the slug's huge mouth to perform the procedure.

But right now he didn't want at all to be an aide. There was something about the way the red-skinned Mebyli rebel leveled his blaster at his head that made the aide want to be back in that nightmare with the gigantic Hutt.

"Where is the senator?" the rebel asked him menacingly.

"What senator?" the aide asked. He knew perfectly well which senator the rebel meant, but for some reason his brain wouldn't work under the stress.

"Rebine Roemohn, lazerbrains," the rebel snapped.

"He's in his personal room at the moment," the aide's voice cracked when he spoke. It hadn't cracked since he began his ninth year of school.

The rebel nodded, thinking. The aide however, was so frightened he couldn't think in complete thoughts except for _My, what nice teeth he has, I wonder what cleaning paste he uses._ He stood, his feet anchored to the study room floor, staring as the rebel decided his fate.

The aide liked to think he was a brave young man, but the truth was his courage had never been tested. He also like to think that if he was tested he would pass with flying colors. He'd therefore pictured himself as a handsome twenty-something with long dark hair, chiseled features, big muscles, and a cool nature not even a Jedi could beat. Yet now, as he stood in frozen terror, he suddenly began to picture himself as the kid he saw in the mirror each morning; a twenty-something with short, unfashionable dirty blonde hair, a face like an insect from Dantooine, slender, and more panicky than a fire drill at a coffee house. At this moment, he would have made up a word to describe himself: non-nonchalant.

The rebel, however, could care less about the scrawny kid who stood before him with his arms raised over his head even though he was clearly unarmed. He just wanted Roemohn, dead or alive, and especially _Kaywantha_, a sacred symbol of peace from his home planet Mebyl.

The senator had stolen it from its glass observing case in Mebyl Palace Museum a short while after dark rumors concerning the jewel began to spread throughout the planet. It was completely unlike any other heist in Mebyl's history.

The senator simply ordered it to be removed and it was.

That's it.

No one had ever attempted to steal the gem and no one the rebel knew wanted to. If his buddies stole anything, it would be food or clothing, something useful as opposed to a pretty rock. But this was more than just a pretty rock! This was a symbol, nay, the essence, the very heart of Mebyl.

"In there?" the rebel asked the aide, nodding towards the door to his left. The aide nodded. He looked about ready to soil himself.

The rebel decided not to kill him. He was kind of funny in a way. He didn't notice that when he opened the door the aide pushed a tiny button on the wall behind him, setting off the silent alarm.

After a few seconds, the rebel bounced back into the room, waving his blaster at the aide.

"Where's the senator?" he asked.

"He's not in there?" the aide whispered.

"No, you Kowakian lizard-monkey," the rebel yelled. He liked insulting the aide; he got amusement out of the aide's right twitching eyelid when he hurtled foul language at the shrimp.

"Now I will ask you again," he continued, a little calmer now. "And if you do not tell me, I will shoot you."

The aide whimpered. The Hutt seemed like a walk in the park.

"Where is the senator?"

"I don't know," the aide blubbered.

"That's not the answer I'm looking for," the rebel said, shaking his head. He fired his blaster, but missed purposely. The aide shrieked and flung his arms around his face. After a few seconds, he peeked at the rebel and, seeing he was still there, promptly covered his face again.

"That was just a warning, pond scum," the rebel said. It was quite entertaining terrorizing the helpless aide. "I will ask but one more time and, like they say, three times is the charm. Where is the-"

The door behind him opened and a member of the security personnel shot him the back. The rebel had enough time to wonder why he was falling down before he died. Although he was in no real danger, the aide screamed.

"What in the paperbacks of the elders is going on?"

Clutching a bathrobe around his wet body, Senator Rebine Roemohn stormed out from the bathroom on the right, frowning so hard his bushy eyebrows met. He saw the man on the floor, the security personnel advancing into the room and his wimp of an aide covering against a wall. It was a rather troubling sight to him. So troubling that, for the first time in four weeks, he decided he needed to get some outside help.

Jedi help.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was unconsciously stroking his arm as he watched the holoset in his quarters. Just four days earlier, he'd almost lost it.

Obi-Wan and his Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn had been assigned by the Jedi Council, who received pleas for help from the Republic, a mission. Padawan-Master pairs were ideal for missions; they were situations in which the Master could teach his student and still learn for himself. They'd been sent to the planet ModusTollens to settle conflicts between two allied groups of countries. However, because of the diversity, misunderstandings erupted in a way similar to dumping mechanic's oil on an ember. A war erupted and the Jedi pair were directly in the middle of it. Sadly, nothing in their Jedi training could allow them to stop it or escape it. Obi-Wan's right arm was badly injured, almost crushed, and both of Qui-Gon's legs were broken in the fray.

They surrendered to one side and took advantage of the meager medical supplies to patch themselves up as best they could before escaping to a starship. They limped back to the Jedi Temple where they were welcomed despite their failures. After some corrective surgery and long bacta dips, the two Jedi were taking much needed rests.

When they'd been captured, a surgeon had sneered over Obi-Wan as he lay on a cot, feverishly fighting the pain in his fractured arm, and had asked if he wanted it amputated. The surgeon finally backed down from his offer, laughing that his superiors had commanded the Jedi boy should sit through the pain for a long time before he lopped it off. Obi-Wan hadn't been too keen to the idea of parting with his arm and was for the first time in his life thankful for a being's cruelty.

His arm was still a little weak but it was healed, bending only at his elbow now. He preferred it that way.

The door slid open and Qui-Gon sauntered through. He was a big, tall man, yet he moved smoothly and didn't speak in a deep booming voice. He was in fact a gentle man but his appearance contradicted his manner.

He idly watched the holoset with Obi-Wan for a few moments; the news was on and apparently a Trandoshen had tried to steal some of the animals in the Holographic Zoo of Extinct Animals. After running from a gorgon made of pigments of light and hiding in a tree with imaginary snakes, he was arrested for disturbing the peace. The reporter appeared amused while telling the story, yet was very testy when he announced the Trandoshen was under the influence of drink and couldn't be charged with insanity and would therefore be out of prison fairly soon. Before switching over to the traffic, he distinctly muttered "Lunatics all over the place."

"Master Yoda wants to see us," Qui-Gon told Obi-Wan as the scenes of wrecked speeders and hovercars flashed on the set.

"Another loose end with ModusTollens?" Obi-Wan asked.

"He told me that it has nothing to do with ModusTollens," Qui-Gon said. He studied Obi-Wan's disappointed reaction for a moment and then said, "Don't worry about it, Padawan. We tried our best."

"We still failed," Obi-Wan muttered.

"Not entirely," Qui-Gon corrected gently. "Had we gotten ourselves killed we would have failed. Try not to be so upset by it. Comfort yourself with the knowledge that the Republic is sending twelve Jedi Knights and five hundred thousand troops to stop the fighting. We were only two Jedi; a Master and a Padawan. Just think, they're sending in Knights."

"To clean up the mess we made," Obi-Wan grumbled.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said slowly, catching his Padawan's full attention. "Even if Mireena herself been there, I still believe ModusTollens would have sunk to war."

Obi-Wan smiled weakly. Mireena was the pseudonym for Meri Deleena, probably the greatest non-Jedi compromiser and peacemaker the galaxy had ever seen.

"Now come along," the Master said. "Master Yoda is waiting."

Obi-Wan hauled himself up from the sofa and switched off the holoset. He followed Qui-Gon out of their quarters to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, a favorite hangout for Yoda. They found him in his favorite hangout spot, a few rocks in the artificial sun next to a pool of clear water. He offered a smile.

"Master Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan," he greeted them. They seated themselves beside the little Jedi Master, facing the pool of water.

Obi-Wan was jealous of the water. He thought it was too clean. He touched his acne-peppered face and stared at his fingertips that were shiny with oil.

He'd dug through a Barabel's vomit to retrieve a comlink it had eaten. He'd swam through the sewer system of a city and got coated in all the wonderful things a sewer system contains. He'd even sifted through a gundark's droppings in search of a tiny key.

But there was nothing quite as gross as pus and oil from your own face.

Qui-Gon watched Yoda respectfully as he spoke.

"Aware I am that you are weary from your last mission," he said. "A little less of a demanding mission I have in store for you if you accept it."

He glanced at Obi-Wan briefly; the teen was rubbing his fingertips together as if something sticky were on them. Obi-Wan realized he'd been caught not listening and nodded.

"What is it?" he asked, proving he was paying attention.

Qui-Gon thought Obi-Wan was a good kid. He was intelligent, loyal, sometimes a little too empathetic and as normal as fifteen-year-olds came. Almost as tall as Qui-Gon, he lacked his grace and often made hasty decisions. Not necessarily bad decisions, just hasty.

"A senator from the planet Mebyl has wrongfully acquired a jewel from his planet," Yoda said. "Return it to its museum his people have demanded, for a symbol of peace it is. He has complied, but slow he is in doing so. An assassin or burglar attempted to reacquire the jewel, yet failed. Fears for his life the senator does. Yet, strangely..."

"Strangely what?" Qui-Gon prompted.

"He does not ask for protection of his person," Yoda said. "But of his daughter, who has run away from him. Intelligence suggests she is hiding in a nightclub. Your mission, should you chose to accept it, would be to find the girl and return her to her father without letting harm fall to her. Remember, the senator has decided to return the jewel, yet wants he his daughter safe."

"Kind man," Qui-Gon commented. He turned to Obi-Wan. "Care for this at all?"

"It'd be a nice change of pace," Obi-Wan said. Qui-Gon nodded to Yoda.

"We accept. When can we begin?"

"When night falls, alive the clubs come," Yoda said.

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

KAYWANTHA

by Vicki Vance

Summary: A light mission for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turns out to require more involvement than originally planned. Ranges from deep drama to quip humor. 

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so I am making no profit from this.

Author's note: You get a golden balloon if you can tell me what the meaning of a certain planet's name is. Here's a clue: it has nothing to do with Star Wars.

"The Bass Beat Rock Club," Qui-Gon read the glowing red sign just ahead. "This is where we think she is. Looks good, doesn't it?"

Obi-Wan didn't think so. The Bass Beat Rock Club nestled between a seedy restaurant and what looked like a Twi'lek strip club. It must have been painted red once, but it had grimed itself to a greenish gray. Besides the front entrance, there was a tiny alleyway to the side that must have led to the backdoor.

As they stood aside in the shadows, a group of diverse teens chattered they way over to me door. A broad-shouldered Trandoshen let them in. Obi-Wan frowned. He thought they were too young to be allowed in a club of this kind.

A group of older beings in their mid-twenties sidled up and the Trandoshen rejected them. They left, grumbling that they'd be back later with blasters, to which the Trandoshen replied he would call his mommy for help.

"It appears to be teen oriented," Qui-Gon said. "You know what that means."

"All right, what does she look like again?" Obi-Wan grumbled.

"Her name is Pikinel, Pikinel Roemohn. You can tell she's Mebyli because her skin is slightly redder than ours. She may try to conceal that, though. Her hair is dark brown and eyes are a little lighter brown, but now that I think of it she may try to conceal that, also. Erm... Here's a hologram of her."

He held aloft the projector and flipped it on. The bust of a teenage girl appeared, smiling widely. Her hair was fashioned in fancy loops around her head and jewelry laced over it. A fur like a small animal circled her neck. Besides her skin that seemed to have seen too much sun, there were no distinguishing marks on her face. If she had disguised herself, she'd be hard to find.

"Try to get out as soon as you can," Qui-Gon told him. "Once we get her back to her father, we're done with this mission."

"What if I run into trouble?"

"Bluff your way out," Qui-Gon said. "Analyze your surroundings and blend in. You should be fine."

"All right," he said, checking quickly to see if his lightsaber was there at his waist. "I'll be back."

"Be careful with your weapon, Padawan," Qui-Gon warned.

"I always am," Obi-Wan assured.

He strode purposefully toward the entrance. The Trandoshen stopped him and asked, "Membership card, please?"

Obi-Wan summoned the Force to his command and casually passed his hand before the Trandoshen's eyes. "You don't need to see my membership card."

The Trandoshen paused for a moment. Obi-Wan sensed he was a bit more strong-minded than he had anticipated and all he'd done was confuse him.

"I- uh..." he said.

"You can just let me in," Obi-Wan said, more strength in his voice this time.

"I'll just let you in," echoed the Trandoshen, stepping aside so Obi-Wan could enter.

He walked along a small, dim hallway that ran along the outside of the club and came upon a door. He pushed it open and was hit immediately by an explosion.

Except it wasn't an explosion. It was noise. No, it wasn't noise. It was... music?

The sight that lay before him was alien to him. A cramped but wide dance room, completely dark save for the stage lights and flashing colors being thrown from the reflective globe hanging from the ceiling, was filled entirely with teens his age. Beings of all sorts danced to the slamming of the drum and plucking of jizz instruments coming from the performers on stage. Scantily clad females danced enticingly toward the males. Those who weren't at the receiving end of this seduction banged their heads in time to the drums. Most were dressed in black and no one wore bright colors, unless a female wanted just a little bit more attention...

The performers were just as young and miss-matched as the dancers; a drummer, two jizz guitarists, a singer, and a teenage Wookiee playing a modified kloo horn. Obi-Wan didn't pay much attention to them. He approached a table to his right where two boys his age were sitting quite stationary.

"Can you tell me where I can find..." Obi-Wan said, then trailed off. One boy looked up at him with red eyes and a pale face.

"You want some death sticks?" he asked slurredly, grasping some cylinders of spice.

"No thanks," Obi-Wan said, backing away from the boys. He reviewed the area again and made a careful note: the teens there were either dancing, getting high, or making out. It completely slipped his mind to look at the teens who were performing.

He wound his way over to the snack bar. He bought a cup of punch, sipped it, winced at the alcohol and dumped it in the nearest trashcan. The woman at the bar looked like she was rapidly approaching twenty and was getting ready to shed her teen life.

"Can you tell me where I may find Pikinel Roemohn?" Obi-Wan asked her. The moment the words came out of his mouth he realized he sounded too dignified and he reminded himself to try to blend in.

"You mean Pike?" she asked, looking up from her work. "She's a performer. She's on the drums right now."

Obi-Wan looked up at the stage and saw a girl no older than himself pounding away at the drums. Her skin was pink, as if she'd powered it. Her brown hair flew wildly around as she finished off the song with a quick pummel and a yell. Cheers erupted from the crowd as the performers bowed. A few switched instrumental places and a few left as others came up to replace them. Pikinel got up, leaving her drums and slung the strap of a bass jizz guitar over her shoulder.

"_Goon he gey!_" the drummer called. The bass guitar had a brief solo, quickly followed by drums and vocals. Obi-Wan found it difficult to understand the continuity of the song and then he realized there wasn't supposed to be any continuity.

This song was quicker than the last. Good thing too, because during the song everyone became particularly wild, jumping all over the place and frenzying themselves up. Even the kids on downers were getting excited.

Obi-Wan was waiting for a time when he could pull Pikinel aside and speak with her, but so far the opportunity hadn't risen. She preformed somehow in every song the club played. He waited through six more songs, each one slightly creepy in its own way and much too loud for comfort.

Finally, at the end of a song about the terrible lifestyle of parents and the strong desire to shoot them, the performers descended into the roaring crowd. Obi-Wan hoped he could get Pikinel at that time, but she remained onstage, chugging down a bottle of water and yanking her guitar off.

"Hey, how you guys doin' out there, you intha back, you fine?" she said into a microphone, running the syllables together as if it were all one word. Everyone cheered in response.

"That's great," she said, taking the mike over to her place at the drums. "Now, it's gettin' a little late, so I'll slow things down a little bit for ya."

Obi-Wan watched, interested. Pikinel took the sticks into her hands and drummed out a rather gentle rhythm. After a few beats she began to sing.

Obi-Wan thought she sang quite well. The drums accented her light voice with near perfect harmony. The song was about a sleazy cantina closing up for the night. He liked the song; he could understand every word. It was a great relief from the previous noise.

She finished on a note that didn't feel like a final note. It left the song open to a future. Obi-Wan decided he really liked the song.

His serenity was interrupted when cheers went up throughout the club. Pikinel grinned and descended into the crowd. Obi-Wan began to weave his way over to her. Up at the bar the woman rang a bell.

"No more drinks," she called out. "We're closing up. No more drinks. Get outta here."

With surprisingly little complaining, the teens began to leave.

Qui-Gon had been meditating outside in the alleyway for longer than an hour now. He wasn't worried about Obi-Wan at all. He sensed no danger and he trusted Obi-Wan to accomplish his task. After all, how hard was it to find one young lady?

But then again, she was a girl and he was a boy. Kids could find reasons to delay. Birds and bees weren't that common of creatures you'd find in the galaxy but everyone sure knew they existed.

Qui-Gon wasn't worried about any possible relationship for Obi-Wan; the thought was rather amusing.

So far in his life Obi-Wan had had so little time to become intimate with a girl, or any peer at that. He and Qui-Gon were always away on missions. Qui-Gon longed to see something new enter Obi-Wan's life, rather than near-death missions and close escapes. He was sure it would help him grow as a person.

Near-death missions and close escapes. They'd seen a lot of that on ModusTollens. Too much, really. Although he didn't show it, Qui-Gon himself was a little upset that they hadn't been able to complete the mission. He felt Obi-Wan was taking it much worse and decided to keep a positive face for his sake.

Qui-Gon noticed a few men sneaking about the club's walls. He would have dismissed them for harmless troublemakers but he saw they all had red skin and blasters in hip holsters.

"Hmmm," he said to himself, and casually approached them.

"What are you doing here tonight?" he asked one, using the same mind trick Obi-Wan had used earlier.

"We were sent here from our leader to find and capture Pikinel Roemohn," he immediately rattled off. One of his comrades smacked him downside the head.

"That's a Jedi mind trick, you fool," he barked. "Blast him!"

Before the rebels could level their blasters Qui-Gon had his lightsaber out and ignited with a threatening _vsh-sh_. He easily blocked their fire and sliced away at one of the blasters. The rebel holding the remaining piece screamed and dropped the melting metal. They backed away, shooting so wildly now not one bolt came even near Qui-Gon. Just for kicks, he reflected one back at the rebels. It bit into a boot and the rebel yelped and clutched his smoking toe.

"Let's go," a rebel said, grabbing the other by the shoulder and yanking him away from the Jedi.

"Hey, wait for me," the one with the injured foot cried, hopping after them.

Qui-Gon was about to pursue but the doors of the club swung open. He quickly turned his lightsaber off and put it on his belt as teens began to file out. He kept his eyes peeled, looking for Obi-Wan or a Mebyli girl.

"Pikinel Roemohn?"

The girl turned to him, flinging her hair across her shoulder with girlish ease. Obi-Wan noticed her hair had subtle red highlights and her eyelids were streaked with purple shadow. She studied him a moment and smiled.

"Yes, that's me," she said. "And who are you, wannabe?"

"Er, 'want to be'?" the word caught Obi-Wan completely off guard. She chuckled.

"That's what you call a kid who wants to get into alternative jizz or rock, but hasn't the foggiest idea of what it's about," she explained.

"And what is it about?" he asked.

"The power of expression," she said with a bit of passion. "The ability to be mad and angry and letting all that bad stuff out without having to pull a blaster on anyone."

"You don't look like an angry person," he said a bit stupidly. He was surprised at himself; why did he just say that?

"Neither do you," she said pointedly.

"Well, I'm not," he said. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi and I'm a Jedi. I'm supposed to take you back to your father and keep you safe from rebels in the meantime."

She looked at him with a pleasantly bewildered look on her face, then burst out laughing. She put a hand to her mouth to stifle her giggles and felt around for a chair to sit in.

"No, really," he found himself saying. "That is why I am here."

She made a "Woohoo!" sound as she calmed down and looked at him, grinning.

"I'm sooo-ooo," she drew the word out longer than necessary. "Tempted to ask you to prove it," she admitted. "Teh heh heh... a Jedi..."

He glanced about to make sure no one else was nearby. "I can," he said, pulling his lightsaber from his belt and showing it to her.

She froze, staring at the weapon.

"That's a lightsaber," she said as if she had been handed a pop exam on astro-navigation. Obi-Wan sensed the fear from her so he quickly put the weapon out of view again.

"Is that proof enough?" he asked. She stood, almost tangling her legs in the chair. She stood at eye level with him, silent and scared, for only a few seconds.

Suddenly, faster than he could have anticipated, she made a fist and hit him hard in the face, just below the cheekbone against his teeth. He staggered back a step, mildly stunned as Pikinel dashed away from him. He regained his composure and ran after her. He was too late to stop her from going through a door, the old kind that swung on a hinge, and slamming it shut behind her. As Obi-Wan reached for the knob he heard the lock click. He tried it anyway.

"Pikinel," he called through the wood. "I won't hurt you."

He touched his lips and found blood on his fingers. Luckily, his teeth were still in place. Wow, she could hit hard.

"Go away!" she screamed.

"I am here to protect you," he insisted. "You can beat me all you want, but know that I won't-"

"Security!" she screeched. "Help me! This man is going to hurt me!"

Obi-Wan felt two different starts of surprise. The first was something like _Oh no, she's calling security on me! _and the second was _She called me a man. Not a boy, or a kid, but a man. Cool_.

He didn't have much time to relish in his masculinity. A surly Trandoshen and a burly Wookiee heard Pikinel's screams and had come over to check it out.

"Pike?" the Trandoshen said. "Ish thish creep bothering you?"

"Take him away, please!"

Obi-Wan tried to smile with assurance at them but his mouth hurt and blood threatened to leak out. They were not moved by the attempt. He was soon the one being moved, quite bodily in fact, in the grip of security men.

They manhandled him towards the door and threw him a few meters forward into the alleyway.

"And shtay out!" the Trandoshen snapped after him as Obi-Wan picked himself up from the grimy floor. The Wookiee barked a curse at him, shaking his furry fist. Obi-Wan, who could understand most of Shyriiwook, failed to see how his mother fit into the situation but did not fail to see the insult.

He tried to brush off the dirt from his cloaks but found they were smeared with a liquid with the same consistency as engine grease and sighed. He heard Qui-Gon step out of the shadows. He surveyed Obi-Wan expressionlessly, then beckoned for him to follow.

"I take it you didn't get the girl," he said.

To Be Continued…


	3. Chapter 3

KAYWANTHA

by Vicki Vance

Summary: A light mission for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turns out to require more involvement than originally planned. Ranges from deep drama to quip humor. 

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so I am making no profit from this.

Author's note: You get a golden balloon if you can tell me what the meaning of a certain planet's name is. Here's a clue: it has nothing to do with Star Wars.

It was late afternoon when the Jedi team shuffled into a taxi that would take them from the Temple to the Senate Chambers. They intended to speak to Senator Rebine Roemohn in person in order to gather a way to possibly get Pikinel to go with them. They'd slept in from the previous night's work, planned to be with the senator that afternoon and at the Bass Beat Rock Club that night.

Qui-Gon seated himself by the window; Obi-Wan had lost the rock-paper-laser cutter earlier. Obi-Wan sat rubbing his hot, bruised cheek and wondered how he was going to approach Pikinel again without scaring her or scarring himself.

Qui-Gon felt the taxi shudder and levitate and watched the landing pad beneath them fall away. Building tops skimmed by like passing squares on a checkered board. Every so often the buildings would reorganize from their pattern to another in account of the curve of the planet. The multiple Senate buildings came into view; there were many more than just the Senatorial room. The Congress of the Republic needed a lot of room. Qui-Gon didn't see why. They needed only a place to work, a place to sleep, and a place to communicate with their planets. They didn't necessarily need massive convention rooms, entire strips of diners (every Senator's personal quarters came with a kitchen and room service), soundstages for entertainment, or a random assortment of shops with shopkeepers eager to take their money.

The taxi landed just inside the outskirts of the collection of buildings. They ambled out with the rest of the crowd and split away from them going towards the Senatorial Chambers, the place where the delegates lived.

They were stopped at the gate by a guard.

"Good afternoon, sirs," he said. Although his words were kind, his tone was not. "Help you with something?"

"I'm Qui-Gon Jinn and this is Obi-Wan Kenobi," Qui-Gon said. "We have an urgent meeting with Senator Rebine Roemohn."

Obi-Wan glanced at him. He hadn't been aware the meeting was urgent.

The guard scrolled for their names on a datapad. He stopped and grunted.

"Quee-Gon, you said?"

"Qui-Gon," he corrected.

"All right," he muttered, opened the durasteel door with a press of a button. "Here's his room number."

Qui-Gon took the small card from him. It read 241. It was a number familiar to him from somewhere, but he couldn't remember where.

He followed along the long curving halls. Obi-Wan followed at his heels and cleared his throat.

"I have a question," he said.

"Evidently."

"Why is this meeting urgent?"

"A regular meeting could take weeks to schedule," Qui-Gon explained. "You see, the Congress operates mainly in procedure and planning but, unfortunately, there is little action. Urgent is just a step down from emergency. It means we get in the day we want, today, for instance."

Obi-Wan nodded and didn't ask any more questions. Qui-Gon was pleased to see they'd come to the 420's. He was soon buzzing the door marked 241.

The door opened and a nervous-looking aide was standing in the doorframe.

"Why are you here?" he asked. He sounded like he was trying to be brave but his voice was high and he was obviously scared.

"We are Jedi here to see the senator," Qui-Gon said in a soothing tone.

"Oh, let them in, Frank," some one said from within the room. The aide stepped aside to let them enter. He eyed Obi-Wan with suspicion and Obi-Wan gave him a quizzical look.

Senator Rebine Roemohn rose from his chair at the table, his loose ropey clothes lined with furs hanging lightly from his thin arms and slender shoulders. His face wasn't as red as Qui-Gon had been expecting and he supposed it was a sign of aging. His hair was styled nicely so he could comb it over his balding spot.

"Qui-Gon Jinn, I take it," the senator said, shaking his hand. "I've been expecting you. And this young lad is your son?"

"My Padawan learner," Qui-Gon corrected as Obi-Wan shook his hand. Obi-Wan looked faintly surprised at being asked if he was Qui-Gon's son. The Jedi hadn't been asked often if they were related; most beings understood the tutelage of Jedi and knew he was his student. "His name is Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"You're what, sixteen?" Roemohn asked him. "As old as my Pikinel?"

"I'm fifteen, senator," Obi-Wan said.

"Ah, yes," he answered distractedly. "Have a seat, please."

He continued to ramble on as they seated themselves on the plush U-shaped fur coach across from him.

"I love kids. I have three of them. Pikinel's the oldest and the only one with me here on Coruscant. Terik and Witnam, my two boys, are home on Mebyl with their mother. You know, before I was a senator I worked for a babysitting company back home. What a change of occupations!"

Qui-Gon smiled politely before sobering to a serious face. He wondered if the senator was always like this or if it was nerves. He thought it was probably both.

"I made it clear in my message that we would need more information to successfully bring your daughter back to you," Qui-Gon said. "Obi-Wan has already spoken with her but she doesn't seem keen to returning, at least with us. I believe she finds us intimidating."

Roemohn smiled ruefully. "Pikinel isn't the type of girl that gets intimidated easily. She was always bossing Terik and Witnam around whenever they played together."

"Now she's not playing," Qui-Gon said gently. Roemohn nodded uncomfortably.

"I wish it was still that easy," he said sorrowfully. Qui-Gon saw a worried, nervous father. He was probably hurting a lot, too.

"We want to help as much as we can," Qui-Gon told him. "And to do that we need as much helpful information as we can get our hands on. Can you start by telling us why she left?"

"Oh, Master Jedi, Pikinel is a good girl," he said earnestly. "She's a very intelligent child. A gifted musician, also. I know she is of the rebellious sort, but she's completely harmless."

Qui-Gon half-expected Obi-Wan to say something, but the teen only rubbed his bruised cheek.

"Yes, well, I'd brought her here for what we planned to be a year. She'd be away from school and we could spend more time together. After all, she is growing up and needs her father to buy her cute outfits. But, a month ago, she ran away from me. She took her several hundred credits and just disappeared. I ordered a search of course and the party found her in a nightclub, but she refused to return. Since then she's been hiding between clubs, always on the move, like some silly nomad."

His manner had been wavering from ruefully happy to sad and now was dipping toward depression. It was hard for Qui-Gon to sit and watch the nervous man crumble before him.

"She hasn't spoken to me for as long as she's been gone. The last thing she said to me was she hated me." he said, looking Qui-Gon in the eye. "Do you have any children, Master Jinn? No? Then you don't know how harsh a child can be. You give them love and they slap you. You feed them and they yell at you. You shelter them, clothe them, give them anything they want, and you get nothing but cruelty in return."

"Did she have reason to leave you?" Qui-Gon asked. He had asked the same question five minutes ago, only it was worded differently.

"Well, uh," he said, waving a hand. "The reason is unimportant."

"But there is a reason?" he pressed. "She just didn't up and go? There is an actual reason?"

"Well, I, in laymen's terms, stole _Kaywantha_."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan exchanged a glance. Initially, the senator had been making it sound like his daughter was heartless and angry, yet it was he who was turning out to be the bad guy, but the odd thing was he didn't seem to realize it.

"Why did you take the jewel?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Oh, the reason is simple," Roemohn said delicately. "There is, er, _doubt_ that the jewel is genuine. You see, there was a rumor of a heist so perfectly made that no one noticed it. The replacement jewel looked so real no one knew it was fake. Naturally, with such a rumor loose, I didn't want my people to live in that kind of upset wonder, so I brought it with me to Coruscant. I planned to take it to a renowned jeweler to discern if it was real. Unfortunately, Pikinel learned of what I had done and left me."

"How did she learn?" Qui-Gon asked. "I can only assume you kept this acquirement secret, it seems so."

"Well," Roemohn said a bit hotly. "I'll only say that certain aides do not know when to keep their mouths shut." he shot a threatening look at the young man. "Probably flirting with Pikinel for all I know."

"Frank Furder never flirts with any girl who can't drop her look-at-me-I'm-tough act," he said testily.

"Get out of here, elder-hater!" Roemohn snapped. The aide turned a left with a huff.

Unsure of what to think, Qui-Gon asked, "And where is the jewel now?"

The senator squirmed in his fur couch, making a little trench for him to hide in. Unfortunately, he was in very clear view of the Jedi.

"_Kaywantha_, the Jewel of the Community in Mebyli, is in the hands of my daughter.

"So much for an easy mission," Obi-Wan grumbled as they neared the nightclub.

"Perhaps after this we can baby-sit a fabool," Qui-Gon commented offhandedly. "All right, when you get in there, try to get her where she can't call security."

"And where would that be?"

"Not her dressing room," he said. "Try to speak to her at the close of the night. Try not to appear intimidating and, for Force's sake, don't show her your lightsaber."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan muttered, parting from Qui-Gon, who settled into the shadows.

He got in fairly easily, more so than the night before. He knew to be strong when getting past the Trandoshen at the door. He was ready for the explosion of sound that smashed into him when he opened the door inside. His eyes quickly adjusted to scene that lay before, looking no different from the night before. Teens were swaying all around him, junkies huddled in tight masses and the performers pounded out tunes.

He spotted Pikinel right away. She was on the drums, pounding at them like she was tenderizing meat. Obi-Wan thought if that girl ever had a hammer it'd mean the end of the galaxy.

The song ended with a clever and elaborate bass jizz guitar plucking in synch with her steady drumroll. The crowd cheered and the performers waved at them.

Pikinel got up to go to the bass jizz guitar, glancing over the crowd. She stopped short; she'd seen Obi-Wan. It hadn't been hard for two reasons: he was the only person not in black, and he was the only person not cheering. She pulled a pimply-faced girl close to her and whispered into her ear. Obi-Wan instinctively stepped halfway behind an obese Rodian in front or him and watched Pikinel hurry offstage to her room. He started to thread over, but he saw the surly Trandoshen and burly Wookiee that had thrown him out the night before positioning themselves at her door. He melted back into the crowd and began to jump with them to the next song (he couldn't understand at all what the singers were mumbling and roaring).

Luckily for him, he and Qui-Gon had arrived later in the night, expecting to catch Pikinel at the end of the night. Therefore, the song was the last for the night. After it ended, a few kids around him started to get energized.

"Pike is up now," they said. "Every night, she gets closing tune. Stang, I love listening to her."

"She's so pretty."

"Dag, what's the wait?"

"Isn't she supposed to be up now?"

"No, really. Smoking Munto-Dodru grass fertilizer is better than the grass itself."

"Truly? What a serendipity!"

"Oh, bite me, you peedunkel!"

"With pleasure!"

The pimply-faced girl Pikinel had spoken to approached the mike and lowered it twenty centimeters so it she speak into it. The Wookiee who had used it before scratched his head in wonder as she said, "Pike can't sing tonight. She's not feeling too well. I'm sorry."

There was an instant subdued uproar. Apparently, hearing Pikinel sing was the highlight of the evening and it was upsetting a lot of people. Before any fights could break out, the security personnel were escorting the crowd out. Obi-Wan snuck past a Togorian scooting a Chadra-Fan out and inched closer to Pikinel's room.

He suddenly sensed danger. It was unnervingly nearby.

Qui-Gon looked up from the shadows he was standing in. He sensed danger nearby and he didn't like the closeness.

Letting his sense of good will get the better of him he wandered towards the back of the club, the place where he felt the danger emitting from. He lingered there for a little while, his hand on his lightsaber.

To Be Continued…


	4. Chapter 4

KAYWANTHA

by Vicki Vance

Summary: A light mission for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turns out to require more involvement than originally planned. Ranges from deep drama to quip humor. 

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so I am making no profit from this.

Author's note: You get a golden balloon if you can tell me what the meaning of a certain planet's name is. Here's a clue: it has nothing to do with Star Wars.

A scuffle involving a green-skinned Neimodian teen and white-skinned Bith nearly broke out beside Obi-Wan and he ducked quickly to avoid it. He slid along the wall towards Pikinel's dressing room. He was about to press the panel to open the door when he heard something thump inside. He stopped and listened, but a Wookiee yelled nearby and he couldn't hear anything but the raspy vocal chords of the being grinding like a gundark with a cold.

He pressed his ear to the door and held his breath, plugging his other ear with his finger. He heard inside a girl making a quick, short sound: a call followed by a grunt, as if she had been hit by something, or someone. He heard the girl whimper and a man distinctly ask, "Once again, where is the jewel?"

Obi-Wan tried the door and when it wouldn't open he ignited his lightsaber and sliced the seal. It whooshed open and Obi-Wan charged into the room, taking everything in quickly.

There was a dresser with a mirror and lights to the left. A stand held a Fender Caster jizz bass guitar and elaborate necklaces hung over it. In a corner a tall, thin, armoire huddled under old denim jeans. A chair hid under a pile of black leather jackets and random tidbits littered the room.

Pikinel was on her hands and knees near the dresser. Two Mebyli rebels stood directly over and the last hovered aside, as if he felt he was in the way. All had blasters in their hands, but they were using the butts on Pikinel.

"Let her go," Obi-Wan ordered. The rebels whirled around to face him, shocked at his speed. The rebel who stood aside raised his blaster. In one swift sweeping movement Obi-Wan destroyed the blaster. It partially exploded and the rebel cried out, clutching his hand.

The other two raised the blasters and fired on him. He blocked and scuttled sideways towards the chair. Using the Force, he extended his hand and threw the leather jackets and chair at the rebels. As they fought through the tangle of clothe Obi-Wan rushed over to Pikinel, positioned himself in front of her and kicked the rebels away from them.

The rebel with the burnt hand came screaming manically at him, as if to tackle him. Obi-Wan used the Force again and threw datapads, game cartridges, and a lamp at him. He backed off, eyeing him with anger and contempt.

The other two rebels got up and leveled their blasters. "Get out of here, kid," one said. "We have no fight with you."

"I am a Jedi," he answered steadily. "I defend those who cannot defend themselves. Like helpless girls that are preyed upon by full-grown men." he smiled when the rebels realized what he was saying. "Is it true you're not strong enough to get one little girl? You need three whole people to complete the job?"

"Jedi-" a rebel barked, waving his blaster. Obi-Wan flicked his lightsaber threateningly.

"Let's get out of here," the rebel with the wounded hand said. "He'll kill us."

"Jedi don't kill." the brave one said.

"Would you like to take that bet?" Obi-Wan inquired darkly, moving the blade slowly through the air.

"C'mon!" the coward whined and grabbed his comrade's hand and dragged him out. The last one ran out after them, clutching his hand.

Obi-Wan turned off his lightsaber and hooked it to his belt. He turned and faced the girl cowering on the floor. He knelt beside her and touched her shoulder. She flinched and whimpered.

"I won't hurt you," he assured her. He brushed her hair away from her face and saw it was covered in blood. She was crying piteously. His over-active empathy easily put him in her place and a deep sympathy washed over him. He helped her to sit and gently held her for a few moments before he slipped his arm beneath her knees.

The door in the back of the club was a little old-fashioned; it was the type that swung on hinges. It flung open and from behind it the three rebels surged forth. Qui-Gon was ready for them. He activated his lightsaber and stood between them and the alleyway out. One clutched his burnt hand, one stood in front with a grim, set face, and the last looked about ready to pee his pants.

"Oh shit," the frightened one wailed. "Here's a man Jedi!"

"He can't be much better than the boy," the brave one said, holding his blaster like a bomb.

"_He's a full-grown man!_" he shrieked in response.

"The boy hurt my hand!" the other said.

"_Let's go!_"

The brave one hesitated and Qui-Gon acted.

"Get out of here or I will kill all of you," he warned. Of course he'd never kill them but he knew the threat would make at least two of them leave and the third would probably follow.

"_Sweetelders,he'sgoingtokillus!_" the coward screamed and bolted away like a Sith was on his tail. The one with the burnt hand followed quickly. The brave one holstered his blaster and looked levelly at Qui-Gon for several moments.

"What I'm doing is for the good of my planet," he said evenly. Then he too left.

Qui-Gon switched off his lightsaber and watched them leave. He started to walk toward the door to see if Obi-Wan was all right when he suddenly heard slightly uneven footsteps.

His initial thought was somebody was hurt from the rebels then he remembered they were after Pikinel. She could be stumbling with a hurt leg but then he wondered about Obi-Wan. What if his leg had been injured? Then he thought he'd have felt it if Obi-Wan was hurt. So, it was Pikinel, then?

Obi-Wan shuffled carefully out of the frame, holding Pikinel in his arms. He looked fine, but she looked awful. There were bruises on her body, her left boot was gone and her foot was swollen to twice its normal size and her face was streaked with rivers of blood. She visibly trembled.

"The rebels beat her?" Qui-Gon asked as he touched her forehead.

"Yes," Obi-Wan said. "They were after the jewel."

"Pikinel Roemohn?" Qui-Gon said. "I'm Qui-Gon Jinn. I'm a Jedi Master. I'm here to help you."

She didn't say anything, only whimpered.

"Don't worry. We'll take you back to you father. You'll be safe there."

"_No!_" she screamed so suddenly it hurt Qui-Gon's ear. Somewhere between screaming and moaning, she kicked her legs and buried her face against Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan appeared slightly alarmed by this sudden irregular movement and tried to hold onto the girl who was beginning to feel like yesterday's oatmeal in his arms.

"All right," Qui-Gon didn't care where they took her, as long as they could get to some shelter and a place she could calm down. "We can take you to the Jedi Temple. It's very safe th-"

"_No!_" she screamed again and flailed her legs, sobbing hard. Obi-Wan had a look on his face similar to if he had been looking at a thermal detonator half-way through its single-digit countdown stage.

"Where can we take you, then?" Qui-Gon asked, switching tactics.

She hummed a bit and said, "My apartment."

Frank Furder the senatorial aide didn't know a lot about social issues. He wasn't a very social person, unless you call online chatting about the persnickety technical flaws of the newest adventure computer game from the company that brought _Ultimate Faerie Quest VII_ to the galaxy. However, he was able to catch only the very obvious from the senator.

For instance, he knew there was an emergency Senate meeting to discuss the appraisal and use of a newly discovered spice found just at the edge of Unknown Space. Of course he knew the nature of the meeting, he'd delivered the memo to Rebine Roemohn and read it himself. He knew that newly discovered spices where big issues in the galaxy and appraisal was not only necessary but also very important to any senator who was interested in spice trade (nearly half of the Senate had some kind of spice connection).

He also knew the senator he served did not really have a headache and nerves. Just nerves, no headache. He hadn't taken any pain reliever and he kept standing up, as if he was too nervous to stay still. Someone with a migraine didn't keep jumping up and down.

However, he didn't know precisely why the senator should be so nervous. Only the senator knew why.

Roemohn was afraid of what the Jedi may discover. He was afraid that while returning his daughter to him, they'd find out the truth about _Kaywantha_. He worried briefly about his daughter, about whether she was safe, if she was getting along with other kids, if she was eating her vegetables, and if she was picking the right kinds of boys. Then he went back to worrying about the jewel and what the Jedi could find.

Frank Furder the senatorial aide didn't know a lot about social issues. But he wasn't a heartless young man either. He saw the worry on the old man's face as easily as the deep wrinkles on his forehead. He pitied the man and wished vainly he would cheer up.

After nearly half and hour of groggy directions from a half-senseless senator's daughter, the Jedi found her apartment. Crammed into the smallest place of a huge low-rate condo, her living quarters could have used a good cleaning.

Not that it was a mess. As the door opened revealing her living space, Obi-Wan noticed it wasn't messy like her dressing room back at the club, but just dirty. A layer of dust and grime coated the walls and the tan, splotched carpet had to have once been white or beige. The faded furniture was re-colored with dirt and was patched and frayed like ionized hair.

Qui-Gon entered first, checking to see if anyone was there already. It was empty.

"Do you have a room mate, Pikinel?" he asked, exploring past the living room into a greenish bathroom.

"No," she mumbled from Obi-Wan's shoulder. "I wanted to hide."

"No bedroom?" he asked as he speediously exited the bathroom. He'd discovered that the green stuff in the bathroom wasn't some kind of odd decoration he'd first taken it to be.

"Too expensive," she answered. "The couch is a bed."

Qui-Gon pulled off the cushions and unfolded the bed from within the couch frame. Obi-Wan, who'd been hovering by and becoming uncomfortably aware of how heavy Pikinel was, lay her on the bed and rubbed the soreness out of his arms.

"Do you have any first-aide kits?" he asked her as Qui-Gon ambled off towards the bar-like kitchen.

"Yeah," she murmured, pointing to a small table beside the couch. "In there."

What Obi-Wan found wouldn't help much: a few adhesive bandages, some aspirin and antacid. He pulled from his utility belt his own small Jedi-issue medpac and proceeded to take out the pain killers and wound-staunchers. He worked primarily on the wounds on her face because they were bleeding the most and would keep her from sleeping comfortably.

She stared up at him like he was a pubescent saint. He tried not to meet her eyesight.

"I'm sorry I hit you," she said at last.

"That's all right," he said. "It wasn't nearly as bad as this."

"You see, I thought you were a rebel in disguise," she explained.

"It's all right, really," he assured her. "You need to worry about resting and letting your wounds heal."

"It doesn't hurt," she said softly.

"That's because I put a nerve numbing agent on the cuts," he explained.

"I think it's the healing touch of a Jedi," she said. Obi-Wan looked at her in much the same way a grazer would when it saw the headlights of an oncoming speeder.

"Pikinel?" Qui-Gon came forward bearing a steaming cup of tea. _Thank the Force_, Obi-Wan thought. "Have some of this. It's my personal favorite."

"I didn't know I had tea," she said as she propped herself up and accepted the cup.

"You don't." he told her. "I always have a tea bag of this with me at all times."

"Now I feel guilty drinking it," she said, sipping it.

Qui-Gon waited a few polite moments before asking, "What can you tell us about the jewel?"

Pikinel stopped sipping her drink and shook her head, effectively dizzying herself. "I won't say anything."

"_Kaywantha_ is causing your father a lot of trouble," Qui-Gon said. "It nearly got him killed."

"Not my problem," she said, refusing to look at him.

"Now it is," Obi-Wan said, dabbing at cut on her forehead. She didn't look at him either.

"That's not my fault," she said.

"But you took the jewel, didn't you?" Obi-Wan asked, amazed at how absent-minded she was being. "You brought this upon yourself."

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon suddenly said. "I think she needs her rest."

"I'm not tired," she said flatly.

"You passed out twice on the way over here," Obi-Wan reminded her.

"Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said again, stronger this time. "She needs to sleep."

He took the cup of tea from her and before she could protest he put his hand on her forehead and nudged her to sleep with the Force. She fell back against the pillows, her breathing softening.

Qui-Gon purposefully put the cup aside, turned to Obi-Wan, and looked him square in the eye.

"Sometimes I know you," he said. "Sometimes I don't."

"What?" Obi-Wan asked, not understanding at all.

"I thought you were empathetic," he explained. "But you couldn't see the pain in her face just now?"

"I saw it," Obi-Wan said defensively. "I treated her wounds-"

"Not her wounds," Qui-Gon said. "When we started to talk about her father and the jewel, she became agitated and upset. Just look at her, Obi-Wan."

He did and saw that when she'd closed her eyes to sleep tears had been squeezed out. He felt a pang of guilt like a knife in his gut. He'd mistaken her behavior for anger at her father when she'd really been hurting. What had he said to her? Something heartless and cold, crushing almost. No wonder Qui-Gon tried to quiet him.

He sat quietly for several moments, reflecting upon himself, searching for some way to comfort himself and eventually came up with something.

"I was feeling sorry for her father," he said to Qui-Gon, still watching Pikinel.

"But her father's not here, is he?" he said. Obi-Wan lowered his head as if Qui-Gon had just cursed him.

Qui-Gon said nothing. He didn't want to punish Obi-Wan for acting the way he did because he knew Obi-Wan would punish himself. He could see it in his eyes; the way Obi-Wan sometimes sunk into his pool of shame and boiled in it. The trouble was he didn't always know when to get out.

"It's good though that you're getting emotionally into the situation," Qui-Gon told him. "I approve of this level of involvement for Jedi, though the Council does not. Just remember not to let it control your actions, Padawan."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan responded.

"I think we will need to be involved in this case," Qui-Gon continued, because what he was saying was true; he was glad it was convenient to use the lesson as a method of comfort for his student. "For I believe we will do more than simply deliver Pikinel to her father. We will also need to discover where the jewel is and return it, whether sham or real."

Obi-Wan nodded, raising his head slightly. "I wonder if the rebels have approached her before and she's refused them the jewel for several nights now," he said.

"And only now they've started beating her?" Qui-Gon asked. "Probably."

"Well, she seems to share their views," Obi-Wan said.

"Ah, I see now. You believe they've spoken before, expressed their similar feelings about the jewel, yet she refused to give them the jewel, even though they have the expenses to take it back to Mebyl and she doesn't. If she and they are so similar, why doesn't she join them?"

"She'd be a rebel against her father," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"She did run away from him," Qui-Gon said. "And went out of her way to stay away. The thing that troubles me is the location of the jewel. It certainly wasn't on her person, was it?"

Obi-Wan shook his head, glancing at her. She had no purse, no pockets in her black leather shorts. "It's not in here, is it?" he asked, glancing around the apartment.

"If it is here, I won't look for it," Qui-Gon said. "It'd be an invasion of privacy. And besides, we are guests in her home, correct?"

Obi-Wan looked at their sleeping hostess, the only bed (which she was sleeping in), the other, much smaller dirty sofa and the single chair that was missing a leg.

"A real five-star hotel."

To Be Continued…


	5. Chapter 5

KAYWANTHA

by Vicki Vance

Summary: A light mission for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turns out to require more involvement than originally planned. Ranges from deep drama to quip humor. 

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so I am making no profit from this.

Author's note: You get a golden balloon if you can tell me what the meaning of a certain planet's name is. Here's a clue: it has nothing to do with Star Wars.

Pikinel woke slowly. Her mind was groggy and she felt no need to wake right away. She never did anyway because she stayed up late and woke up late, usually just in time for lunch. She had no use for an alarm chronometer.

Memory suddenly rushed back to her and her eyes snapped open. _Great elders_, she thought. She propped herself onto her elbows and saw the Jedi man sitting in the chair without a leg, apparently asleep. It was rather odd because he wasn't limp in the chair and the chair hadn't fallen over, in fact, he seemed to be keeping himself up by holding one foot stiffly on the floor.

She looked at the Jedi teen. He was curled up on the sagging sofa, sound asleep. Pikinel frowned. Didn't that sofa have a loose, sharp spring poking out of it? She saw the pointed spring on the beside table. He'd probably ripped it out when he'd realized it'd jab into his rear. Or perhaps it already had.

She grinned and wondered why the thought of something pointy in that young man's buttocks entertained her so much. He wasn't _that_ attractive, even considering she'd learn to look past adolescent pimples. He wasn't exactly the most intelligent young man she'd met. He'd said some things about her father that made her feel awful.

He was, however, a pretty nice guy. He'd saved her from the rebels, carried her all the way back to her apartment and treated her wounds. He'd done it all without complaining or making her feel like a burden.

Now that she watched him closely, the way his face was so peaceful, the way he lay all curled up and even the way he breathed so quietly made him seem so innocent and sweet. She'd love to go over to him and give him a little kiss on the part of his cheek that was acne-free, but just light enough so he wouldn't wake up, so he'd dream about it.

She shook her head. Why should she be getting all mushy about him? She barely knew him. She could hardly remember his name.

But then again, he slept like a baby...

_A baby with zits_, she reminded herself.

She looked back at the man Jedi and couldn't decide if he was asleep or not. As she contemplated it he suddenly opened his eyes as if he'd simply been sitting waiting for her to wake up and smiled kindly.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked.

Too shocked to try to evade the question, she answered quietly, "Uh-huh..."

"Good," he said, giving a little nod. "Anything I can get for you?"

"No..."

"Oh," he said, a bit put off. "Well, I'll get you some water, anyway."

He got up, didn't stretch, and went immediately to her kitchen. The chair beneath him fell towards the place where the leg had been once and it crashed to the floor. The teen Jedi started awake, grabbed his lightsaber from his belt, looked over at the furniture wreckage, sighed, and got up from the sagging couch to stand beside his Master, who was pouring water from the tap.

"Did she say anything while I was asleep?" he asked in a low voice Pikinel could hear nonetheless.

"No," Qui-Gon answered, dumping the yellowish water back in the sink and turning to the miniature refrigerator.

"Shall I ask her some questions?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Just be mindful of her feelings and condition," Qui-Gon said, nodding.

Obi-Wan turned to her and smiled nervously as if he was approaching a rabid gundark. He sat beside her and examined her foot.

"Is it feeling any better?" he asked, gently prodding her ankle.

"A little bit," she answered.

"Looks like the swelling has gone down," he said, proceeding towards her forearms, which she had held in front of her face to protect it when the rebels had pummeled her with their fists.

"I'm sorry you've had to endure this," he commented. She said nothing, only watched him run his fingertips over the bluish bruises, frowning as if he could feel the pain.

"For your own sake," he said carefully. "To keep this from happening again, I'll ask you: where is _Kaywantha_?"

She pouted and looked away.

"We only want to help," Qui-Gon said, bringing a bottle of clear water. "We are Jedi Knights, the guardians of peace in the galaxy. We wouldn't be pressing the matter if we weren't in the pursuit of serenity."

Pikinel frowned and finally met Qui-Gon's cool gaze with her own fiery stare.

"My father brought this upon himself and me," she said. "It's his own fault that I got hurt."

"Your father cares for you very much," Qui-Gon told her.

Her gaze faltered and she balled her hand into a fist. She mumbled something that sounded very much like, "No he doesn't."

"When morning comes, we'll take you back to your father," Qui-Gon said. Pikinel opened her mouth to say something but Qui-Gon wouldn't let her. "And we'll see if you still want to stay with him. If not, we can take you home to Mebyl."

Rebine Roemohn was a heavy sleeper. When night fell, he took full advantage of the loss of light and slept through it in much the same way a hibernating gundark would. Even after fitful nightmares of Pikinel's angry face yelling at him, he still slept through the nights.

Except for this one. After all, it is hard to sleep when the commphone keeps ringing.

He hauled himself up from bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and picked up the receiver. Where was the wimpy aide when he needed him?

"'Ello?" he grumbled.

"Pardon the disturbance, senator," a man on the other end said. "It's Qui-Gon Jinn."

"Qui-Gon?" the senator said, collecting his sleepy thoughts. "Oh, yes. Hello. How are you?"

Roemohn glanced at the chronometer and mentally moaned at the ungodly hour.

"I'm fine," the Jedi answered. "I have news. My Padawan and I have found your daughter and you'll see her tomorrow."

"Really? My Pikinel? That's wonderful!"

"Yes, I know," Qui-Gon said, not encouraging him, but calming him with his tone. "You must understand this is almost completely against her will."

"Yes, yes," he said, his energy leaking away slowly.

"Something else, senator, you must know about your daughter," Qui-Gon said seriously. "Mebyli rebels tried to get the jewel from her and she sustained some mild injury."

Roemohn's jaw dropped. His baby Pikinel hurt by filthy rebels? Such a sacrilege on her innocent beauty was unthinkable.

"She was conscious enough to direct my Padawan and I to her apartment," he continued gently. "She felt most safe and comfortable there. We'll be here until morning, resting and recovering. Please, don't worry. She's safe with us."

"Can I please speak to her?" he asked weakly. He heard the silence as the Jedi hesitated.

"Yes," he said. "Here she is."

He heard the clatter of hands on the commphone and a girl said in the distance "He does, does he?" and someone else say, "Do you really want to hurt him like this? He's not as tough as you and you need to treat him so." Then there was a brief silence.

"Dad?" came Pikinel's soft voice, as if she didn't want the nearby Jedi to hear.

"Pikinel baby?" Roemohn said. "I've missed you, princess. I haven't heard your voice for so long. Oh, honey, I've missed you so much."

"Yeah, well," she sputtered, as if she was about to cry. "I don't. I think it's stupid what you're doing and I want to hear you say you'll give the jewel back right away."

"Nelly, I never wanted anything like to happen," he said.

"Well, it did happen," she said, her voice sounding wet like tears. "I'm all beat up because of you.. You know, I'm lucky I wasn't raped-"

From beyond the immediate area of the commphone Roemohn heard Qui-Gon say, "That's enough, Pikinel." There was another clatter as Qui-Gon took the phone in his hands.

"She really misses you," he assured him gently.

"I know she does," Roemohn said, trying to dry out his own voice.

"We'll bring her back tomorrow and then we'll find the jewel," he assured him.

"Thank you very much," Roemohn said. "Please say goodnight to Pikinel for me."

He hung up after Qui-Gon said "I will." He stared at the commphone, trying not to think of Pikinel's cold, breaking voice. He tried not to imagine his little girl bruised from dirty rotten rebels. He tried to think of her smile, the way her light brown eyes twinkled when she laughed.

Rebine Roemohn was a heavy sleeper. He lay down in bed, expecting the dark wave of sleep to overpower him fairly soon. It didn't come. Not once throughout the remainder of the night did sleep still his troubled mind. In the morning his pillow wasn't wet from the usual drool, the by-product of deep sleep. It was wet with tears.

The Jedi and Pikinel walked up to a taxi stop the next morning and waited for it to arrive. Pikinel kept staring at the ground, imagining a hole to suddenly appear and let her fall through and out of where she was and onto the stage back as Bass Beat Club. The big, fading yellow taxi whooshed to a stop beside the platform and the doors creaked open. Beings flooded out and beings flooded in. Pikinel got to sit down next to a cranky-looking Human grandmother and the Jedi stood up in he aisles around her. She kept her head down, staring at her knees.

Obi-Wan's overactive empathy make him feel compelled to comfort her. He put a hand on her shoulder and he felt her tension at being touched. Obi-Wan wished so much he hadn't done it, but also felt compelled to keep his hand where it was for her sake. He finally gave it a gentle squeeze and took his hand away, hoping it hadn't been too embarrassing but thinking nonetheless that it was.

Qui-Gon observed all this from the corner of his eye with amusement. It was hard to tell if Obi-Wan had an inclination towards the senator's daughter or if he was merely sympathetic. He'd like to think it was the former, but by the way Pikinel looked so pitiful and bruised it was obviously the latter.

The taxi dropped them off near the Senatorial buildings and they flowed out with the crowd into the roundabout junction. They took the left middle fork, towards the private quarters of the senators.

Pikinel had been limping slightly because of her swollen foot and hadn't complained about it at all and the Jedi kept at a slow pace to make her feel less burdensome. Now she slowed down to a complete stop, sitting at a public bench. Qui-Gon stood above her as she rubbed her food.

"My foot hurts," she explained, as if it wasn't obvious enough.

"I know that's not the only reason," Qui-Gon said, his tone partly between gentleness and reprimanding. "But if you please, we'll wait for a few minutes."

The Jedi didn't sit down; they didn't want to put off meeting the senator any longer than they had to. Qui-Gon could feel Pikinel burning with apprehension and embarrassment. She finally held her chin up, set her face, and nodded.

"Let's go," she said firmly. She stood and walked in front of them and they walked on either side of her, like bodyguards. The guard at the gate didn't ask for identification and Qui-Gon couldn't tell if he'd recognized them or her.

When they came to door 241, Qui-Gon knocked and the door immediately opened. Rebine Roemohn had been waiting by the door for them and he looked like he was about to explode with relief.

He saw his daughter, saw the marks on her face and arms, saw how she refused to stand on one of her feet, and saw the joyless expression on her face. Uttering a quiet word of thanks, he reached out and held her with surprising gentleness.

"I've missed you, baby," he told her.

"I know, daddy," she said, her voice garbled with tears. Qui-Gon sensed an almost instant change in emotion in Pikinel when she saw the state her father was in.

"I'm going," Roemohn said slowly, thinking as he went. "To take you shopping and we'll get some nice clothes and make-up and computer games and we'll go out wherever you want to dinner."

The Jedi stood awkwardly in the doorway as the Mebyli hugged each other. They pulled apart slightly and Pikinel saw Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan watching them and, reminding herself she was mad at her father, withdrew from him and hugged her arms around herself.

"Pikinel," Qui-Gon said. "Where is _Kaywantha_?"

She paused, looking at her father with sad defeat. "It's in the Bass Beat Rock Club. In my dressing room. I hid it on top of the tallest dresser."

"We'll bring it back as soon as we can," Qui-Gon promised them gently.

"You know, I've seen a lot of hard stuff," Obi-Wan said late that night as he and Qui-Gon walked the dark streets of Coruscant. "I've seen war, drought, starvation, raw pain. But I've never seen anything like that. Pain like that isn't natural and it runs so deep. It's..."

"It's just plain sad," Qui-Gon said.

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement. They had reunited the senator and his daughter over twelve hours ago and they were only now talking about it.

"When we return the jewel I believe the Roemohn's will be happy again," Qui-Gon said. "Or they'll at least start to heal."

Up ahead of them on the dark, narrow street they saw the neon sign that read _Bass Beat Rock Club_. Beings were filing out of it, showing it was closing up.

"Now," Obi-Wan said. "It's dark in there. And it may be loud, too. There's lots of stoner kids and girls wearing next to nothing. Just giving you-"

"Fair warning?" Qui-Gon asked. "Don't worry, Obi-Wan. It's not like I've never been inside a nightclub before."

Obi-Wan blinked in surprised and abruptly stopped walking. Every brain cell strained, tried will all the power he possessed, worked until it hurt, but he couldn't imagine a young Qui-Gon Jinn in that kind of place. His Master half-turned and gave him a little smile. He began to walk again, now wondering what the reason was that compelled his Master to go into such an un-Jedi and definitely un-Qui-Gon like place.

Obi-Wan expected the Trandoshen to refuse them entrance; they had no membership card, the club was closed and Qui-Gon was too old. But with a simple pass of Qui-Gon's hand and a strong rumble of the Force let them enter without difficulty. Obi-Wan directed Qui-Gon to Pikinel's room which was still broken from when Obi-Wan had slashed it with his lightsaber.

The looked up briefly at the tallest dresser, estimating and planning. Obi-Wan dragged a footstool over and Qui-Gon stepped onto it, peering at the dresser top.

"Hey!" a voice said from the door. Obi-Wan saw it was the surly Trandoshen he'd learn to dread. He froze on the spot, wishing suddenly and quite stupidly that he and Qui-Gon were invisible.

"Jusht what do you think you're doing in Pike'sh room?" he asked, rather loudly. Obi-Wan couldn't even blink. He knew at any moment the Trandoshen would turn his head and yell for his burly Wookiee companion in security.

His mind suddenly unfroze when he thought of how dirty his robes would get if they'd throw him out when they'd get a hold of him.

"Nothing that would concern you," Obi-Wan said firmly, using the Force to affect his mind. He hoped the Trandoshen was used to being ordered, or at least had no mental power. How much brain power could it take to push people around and toss them outside when told it's closing time?

The Trandoshen blinked at him slowly, carefully, as if trying to figure out the square root of four-thousand, seven-hundred sixty-one (which is, after all, sixty-nine).

"Why don't you just take a nap?" Obi-Wan suggested, bringing the Force the bear again, as strong as he could manage without losing control of it.

"I'll jusht take nap," he said suddenly. He promptly sat down against the doorframe and closed his eyes. Seconds later he was snoring.

Letting out a breath of relief, Obi-Wan dragged him into the room, out of the view of people outside and closed the door. Qui-Gon jumped off the stool and observed the Trandoshen.

"Well done," he said. "But the effort is wasted. The jewel isn't here."

"Shall we look around for it?" Obi-Wan asked, glancing about at the random tidbits in the room.

"Might as well," Qui-Gon said. "As long as we're here."

They proceeded to paw through Pikinel's belongings. Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan both felt like they were violating her privacy, but they looked anyhow. Under the dressers, on top of the ceiling fan, beside the chronometer, inside the dirty rainbow toe socks, absolutely everywhere in the room.

Qui-Gon stood up with his hands on his hips.

"I don't think it's here," he said frankly.

They heard someone speaking from outside. In a flash, Obi-Wan hid himself inside the armoire and Qui-Gon buried himself under the pile of animal hides. Through the door crack in the armoire, Obi-Wan saw three red-skinned men enter the room.

Obi-Wan sucked in a breath. The Trandoshen was snoring near the door. They hadn't hid him. _ Maybe_, he hoped, _they won't notice him._

Unfortunately, the cowardly Mebyli, who's head jerked around as if trying to see everything at once, saw him immediately and squeaked, grabbing his friend's sleeve.

"What is it, Jerlen?" he asked, then spotted the reptilian bipedal on the floor. "Aww, _Shitzen_."

"He's sleeping," the brave one said, kneeling beside him. "Pretty soundly, too."

"I wanna go," the coward named Jerlen moaned. "I wanna go. I wanna go."

"Shut up, Jerlen," the brave one hissed. "He's probably just a narcoleptic guard."

Reacting to the silent order from Qui-Gon, the Jedi emerged in a flutter of cloth from their hiding places. Qui-Gon blocked the door and Obi-Wan helped corner them. Jerlen screamed, backed into the wall behind him, jerked as if the wall had been a rancor and slid down the wall whimpering. The brave one stood strong and the other watched the Jedi warily, half-expecting to get hurt at any time.

"What do you want?" the brave rebel asked.

"We can ask the same of you," Qui-Gon said.

"We came for Pikinel," he explained carefully.

"Why?" Qui-Gon asked.

"She has the jewel," he said. "Or she at least knows where it is."

He glanced about and asked, "She's not here, is she?"

"No," Qui-Gon said flatly. "Why do you want the jewel?"

He raised his chin and said, "An outsider like yourself wouldn't understand."

He kept eye contact with Qui-Gon's piercing blue eyes for several moments before he stepped aside from the door.

"Get out of here before I kill you," he said.

Running like the seat of his pants was on fire, Jerlen promptly exited through the door with the speed of a pod's engine. The other two followed cautiously and disappeared from sight.

"We should go back to Roemohn's quarters," Qui-Gon suggested, to which Obi-Wan nodded earnestly.

To Be Continued…


	6. Chapter 6

KAYWANTHA

by Vicki Vance

Summary: A light mission for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turns out to require more involvement than originally planned. Ranges from deep drama to quip humor. 

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so I am making no profit from this.

Author's note: You get a golden balloon if you can tell me what the meaning of a certain planet's name is. Here's a clue: it has nothing to do with Star Wars.

Pikinel Roemohn tapped a bass beat with the toe of her boot as the turbolift dropped into the lower levels of Coruscant. She hummed the part of the modified kloo horn for a few moments before she realized she was annoying the Hell out of the looming cloaked Twi'lek beside her. She stopped, missing the music with all her heart.

She was nervous, also. She didn't know if she'd run into the Jedi as she went back to the Back Beat Rock Club to find _Kaywantha_. She knew there was no way she could explain herself if they caught her and she knew she could never outrun them. She prayed to the elders for a safe deliverance to her place of work.

_All this trouble_, she thought angrily, _and I didn't even do anything!_ As far as she was concerned, it was all her father's fault. Deep down inside her heart, the part she refused to see and make public, she was sorry for endangering her father. Consciously, she couldn't believe he could be so impossibly stupid and not see what the rebels saw. Honestly, he was denser than five cubic centimeters of durasteel.

She stuck her hand inside her fur-lined designer jacket and felt the hold-out blaster strapped to her thigh. She watched the Twi'lek leave into the dark mists of the underworld of Coruscant that literally hadn't seen daylight for centuries. The door slid shut and continued to take her down, down, down, into the bowels of the planet.

She felt the first grip of fear chilling her like a badly-flavored juri juice smoothie. She pulled her furs closer against her body and sang the first verse of "When Dreamers Awaken" and tapped her foot.

Being late in the night, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan didn't have to deal with the guard they didn't like as they went to the senator's quarters. They knocked on the doors and waited. There was no answer.

Qui-Gon tapped the opening command into the panel and found it wasn't locked. The door slid open and the Jedi peered in cautiously. Everything seemed to be in order, except for Rebine Roemohn huddled on the floor by the wide windows, gazing dumbly at the twinkling lights of the city.

"Senator," Qui-Gon called, thinking he was having a medical emergency, and walked quickly into the room with Obi-Wan close at his heels. "What's happened?"

"My baby's gone," he said softly.

Qui-Gon studied him for a moment, reaching out with the Force. He felt no presence other than the senator's. He turned to Obi-Wan.

"She's gone back to the club," he said quietly.

"The jewel was there all along," Obi-Wan said. "That's why she's left again."

"But if the jewel was there and hidden all along why did she go back tonight?" Qui-Gon asked. "Why the rush?"

"She hates me," Roemohn said to himself. "My own child hates me deeper than the very depths of this cold, dead planet."

The Jedi stared at him for a few moments, suddenly realizing what they hadn't noticed earlier.

"Why does she hate you so?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Do they need a reason?" he asked bitterly. "Teenagers will effortlessly rip out your heart and tromp on it for all the galaxy to see."

"She needs a reason to hate you," Obi-Wan said defensively. "Surely, you can think of something."

The senator cocked his head in thought, staring out the window. He shrugged and said, "Maybe my child despises me because I tried to discover if _Kaywantha_ was real or not."

"What does _Kaywantha_ mean again?" Qui-Gon asked. He knew that whether the jewel was genuine or not wasn't the problem.

"Well, in present-day Mebyli it means 'jewel of the community'," he said. "In an older dialect it meant 'jewel of the universal peace'. Much like your Force, in a sense. I mean, I suppose I really don't know, not being a Jedi and all-"

"We're going to go get your daughter back," Qui-Gon said quickly. He sensed a distant prickly feeling, like a dark foreshadowing he could make about someone else. Someone like Pikinel.

He turned and began to leave. Obi-Wan offered a hand to the senator and helped him up.

"We'll bring her back," he assured him, walking him to a couch.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon called rather sharply. Obi-Wan jogged after him. Qui-Gon was eager to get going and was somewhat impatient.

"I sense a far away but rapidly approaching danger," he told Obi-Wan, not slowing his brisk walk.

Obi-Wan stretched his senses out far and felt a gentle tingle of moving danger.

"Pikinel may be in trouble," he said, breaking into a run after Qui-Gon. "What am I saying 'may'?"

The neon lights that boasted the title Bass Beat Rock Club weren't on. There was no sound emitting from the building. No one was there. It was dark, quiet and still.

Pikinel opened the squeaky back door and stepped into the backstage area. It was completely dark inside and slightly creepy. She sang a couple lines of "If You're Going to Kill Yourself, Please Make it Easy to Clean Up" to cheer herself up. The verses from the humorously morbid song did not cheer her up as much as she had hoped.

She flipped on the light and the main dance room was illuminated. It was still odd because the room was usually swamped with teens and dark with flashing lights. Her steps echoed through the empty air as she struggled with a ladder. She hefted it over to the middle of the floor and set it up. She climbed carefully up, up to the hanging mirror-covered globe next to the ceiling. It was pretty big, slightly larger than the size of a computer monitor and covered in little mosaic pieces of mirror. She flipped open a little area of it that was loose and reached inside and her fingers closed around a smooth, cold rock.

She pulled _Kaywantha_ out of its hiding place and studied the gem. Somewhat heavy and bright green like emerald, it was nicely faceted and pretty to look at.

Pikinel licked her lower lip. All she had to do now was climb down the ladder and run away again. Maybe to another club, or to a bar; someplace so grubby her father's search party would never like to find her.

The very first part of her plan, getting down the ladder, went very awry. Pikinel got the sensation of going down a very bumpy turbo lift. She instinctively grabbed the the globe for support and the ladder crashed to the floor. _Kaywantha_ slipped from her fingers like wet noodles and she looked down to see seven Mebyli rebels, all armed with blasters. One picked up the jewel from the floor and pocketed it. He grinned up at her.

"Thank you for relinquishing _Kaywantha_," he said smugly, watching amusedly as Pikinel clambered onto the globe so she could sit on it. "You could have just done it earlier and we wouldn't have had to-"

Pikinel whipped out her own blaster and pointed it at the ingrown hair between his eyebrows. He froze and the painful growth on his face suddenly became the least of his worries.

"You know, Geff," a rebel said quickly, his eyes fixed on Pikinel. "She can take out one, maybe two of us before we can take her down."

"You knew going into this that there'd be risk," the rebel with the ingrown hair said.

"Is it worth it, though?"

"_Vichnar!_" he snapped, slapping the coward across the face, taking his eyes off Pikinel. She knew what he'd just said and it was a naughty thing indeed.

"You are not worthy to be part of this retrieval!" he barked at the other. He returned his attention to Pikinel, his blaster drawn.

"Here's what we'll do," he said calmly. "We will leave with the jewel and no injuries, Hell, we'll even put the ladder back up, or we will leave and you will be dead. You are standing in the way of peace and we will kill you for it."

A voice, one the coward recognized easily as the voice that haunted his nightmares, spoke from behind them.

"Lower your weapons," it said.

Qui-Gon felt the power cells of his lightsaber humming beneath his fingertips. He saw in the corner of his eye Obi-Wan's blue lightsaber powered up and ready.

He sensed surprise, recognition, fear and stubbornness from the rebels. In some he felt confidence which he naturally assumed was because there was now seven of them, not three.

The two parties and Pikinel at the ceiling just stared at one another until Qui-Gon said, "I repeat: lower your weapons."

There was a brief pause and then the leader yelled, "For peace and elders!" and opened fire on them.

Like a coordinated, free-flowing dance, Qui-Gon blocked the blaster bolts. He ducked and spun, returning one to it's shooter and catching him on his hand. He yelped and dropped his blaster, muttering "Not again." Repetition of injury didn't amuse him.

Qui-Gon senses warned him of all danger well in advance and he wasn't touched at all by the blaster fire and neither was Obi-Wan. They were well-accustomed to fighting and compared to their last mission this was a piece of Squib pta and juri fruit cake with lots of Bakuran whipped cream on top.

But there was someone else who was against the rebels that wasn't accustomed to fighting. Pikinel thought the Jedi were doing pretty well, but she didn't know how well they could handle the fight; she didn't know their limits. Besides, she had become rather fond of them. It'd be heart-breaking, she imagined, to witness that big, tall, strong and graceful man fall with a life-stopping blaster wound or to see the young man with his whole future ahead of him to crumple to the floor and not get up.

She took careful aim and fired her blaster.

The rebel she shot jerked and screamed, sinking to his knees and clutching the wound in his shoulder. Another rebel noticed she had joined the fight and returned fire.

Obi-Wan heard Pikinel scream and saw her slip off the globe and thud to the floor. He sucked in a breath and circled the rebels, towards where Pikinel lay.

In a single, elegant stroke, Qui-Gon destroyed the remaining blasters. The rebels, realizing one of their own was down and they were defenseless, tried to make a break for the door. Qui-Gon reached out to the Force and the door slammed shut and the lock clicked. He stood over them and gazed down at them with his piercing blue eyes.

"Who has the jewel?" he asked coolly.

All five rebels pointed to Geff, who, looking like he was disgracing the elders he so worshipped, handed the jewel to him. Qui-Gon put it in one of the pouches on his utility belt.

"Pikinel," Obi-Wan said over her. She was awake, her face twisted in pain. She clutched her thigh and whined softly. Obi-Wan quickly ripped open a sealed packet of bacta and poured it onto the charred flesh.

Qui-Gon knelt beside the fallen rebel while his comrades looked untrustingly on. Blood oozed from the wound on his left shoulder. Qui-Gon gently examined it, assessing damage and proceeded to treat it. The rebel's breathing was heavy and he looked at Qui-Gon with sick, horrified eyes.

"I won't hurt you," he assured him as he squeezed bacta into the hole. He put gauze and bandage on it, pressing firmly on the wound, bringing the Force to bear. He calmed the rebel, clotted the blood and finally withdrew from him.

"He'll be all right," he told the other rebels as they hovered beside their friend. "Considering he gets to a hospital as soon as possible. He'll need treatment and- Give him air, please." he said as his friends crowded around him.

He shook his head and then walked over to Pikinel and Obi-Wan. He'd helped her to sit and had just finished wrapping bandages around her thigh. Qui-Gon felt the ripples in the Force as Obi-Wan did on Pikinel what Qui-Gon had done on the rebel. Pikinel was in shock, but much better than the rebel on the floor.

Qui-Gon took out his comlink and dialed up the emergency number.

"Nine-nine-nine emergency," a woman on the other end of the line sounded calm. "What is the emergency?"

"A man of about late twenties had been shot in the shoulder and a girl of sixteen has also sustained blaster injury to the thigh. We are in the Bass Beat Rock Club. We will remain calm until an ambulance arrives."

The woman on the other end of the line, somewhere between being surprised and thankful for his unusual calmness, said, "Of course. Help is on the way."

To Be Concluded…


	7. Chapter 7

KAYWANTHA

by Vicki Vance

Summary: A light mission for Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan turns out to require more involvement than originally planned. Ranges from deep drama to quip humor. 

Rated PG-13

Disclaimer: I own nothing, so I am making no profit from this.

Author's note: You get a golden balloon if you can tell me what the meaning of a certain planet's name is. Here's a clue: it has nothing to do with Star Wars.

Obi-Wan wasn't sure if he liked the smell of hospitals. It was definitely clean and germ-free, which he liked, but sometimes the stink of death tainted the lovely scent of antibiotics.

Rushed footsteps fell upon his ears and he looked up at Roemohn's flushed face as he dashed through the hallways. Qui-Gon smiled assuringly at him but it didn't seem to calm him at all.

"My baby," he huffed. "I heard she'd been shot. Is she all right?"

"She's completely fine," Qui-Gon said, patting his arm soothingly. "She's had a dip in bacta, her wounds are healing well."

"Oh, my dear," he said distractedly. He gestured to the shaded window near the door they stood by. "Is she in there?"

"Yes," Qui-Gon said. "I assume you want to see her?"

"Oh, yes, more than anything," he said, pushing open the door. Qui-Gon grabbed his elbow and Obi-Wan's sharp eyes noticed he used more force than necessary.

"She is unstable however," he said quietly. "Emotionally. Why don't you let her talk to you a little bit? And why don't you actually listen to what your daughter has to say?"

Roemohn stared at him in shock and Obi-Wan had a strong suspicion no one had ever told him to do this. Qui-Gon released him and eased open the door.

Obi-Wan followed Qui-Gon who followed Roemohn into the room. Obi-Wan thought that Qui-Gon suspected Roemohn wouldn't really do what he should so the Jedi presence would be that of a mediator.

Pikinel was lying in her bed, sour-faced at seeing her father. Although she looked fairly healthy after the bacta dip, her father hovered over her and he began to fuss.

"My pretty little Pinknose," he said. "What have those awful men done to you? Are you feeling all right? Do you need some cream of ice? Or a shake? Or a-"

Qui-Gon had been meaning to interrupt and had almost at this point but he and the senator were efficiently stopped.

"_Shut up!_" Pikinel yelled. Her father blinked and stopped. Qui-Gon had been half-expecting it and looked away awkwardly. Obi-Wan jumped. What a violent girl.

"You have got your priorities all wrong, you crazy old man," she cried. "Why do you care about my petty material body when my soul is being ripped apart by what you do?

"I hate you! I hate you, you stupid, brainless man!

"You should have known that when you became a senator that you have a bigger commitment to your people than your family. You should have done everything in your power to ensure that they were happy, well-kept and satisfied. Well, guess what? You didn't.

"You should have never doubted whether _Kaywantha_ was genuine or not. It isn't just a stupid rock. It is a symbol of peace for our people. It was given from one side to the other after the great civil war. Men have died defending it and you have disgraced it! Infected it with your doubts! Our people are doubting themselves! What kind of senator are you, dammit?

"Peace has been destroyed because you are too concerned with material objects. Peace itself has been killed! Do you know what peace is?!"

Silence suffocated the air. Roemohn stared at his daughter, wheels turning in his head. Qui-Gon was relieved the truth had finally come out of the girl. Now if only her father understood...

"I..." he said, not meeting his daughter's burning gaze. "I suppose I don't, Pikinel."

Obi-Wan didn't understand. How could he not know what peace was?

"I mean, I- I know what it is, but don't. I don't understand feelings," he said irregularly. Qui-Gon could tell he was a confused man and this was very hard for him to say. "I don't understand much of anything, except for physical, er, material things. I don't understand what's inside..."

"You understand love, senator," Obi-Wan said suddenly, stepping forward. Three pairs of surprised eyes turned on him. "You have tried so hard to please your daughter, and you never lost hope, even when she rejected you. True, you may not have gone about the best way of doing it, but you tried with all your heart. If only there were more people like you in the galaxy... We'd all be better off."

"I think I see what you mean," Roemohn said. He turned to his daughter. "I- I will return _Kaywantha_. And I will resign from my senatorial duties."

"No, daddy," Pikinel said. "You're good at being a senator."

"No, darling," Roemohn said. "There is too much I don't understand. Too much I've forgotten about being a person. I need to go home and learn it all over again. And I want you to come home, too."

There was no hesitation.

"Oh, daddy," she said, reaching out for a hug. "I'll go with you wherever you go!"

The sky was red and orange as the sun slunk below the ragged horizon of Mebyl. It was a lovely, soothing sight for sore eyes. Eyes that had witnessed a girl approaching or going through her menstrual cycle. Or so Obi-Wan believed.

But the rogue or most perhaps the most Human part of Obi-Wan didn't believe that fluxuating hormones was the reason for her radical emotional shifts. But, it had been strange to watch as she went from completely angry and rebellious with her father to being loving and passive as a grazer. And one could easily point the finger at girl stuff that should best go unmentioned.

But her change was good, unhindered and pure. As Obi-Wan watched the sunset with his Master, he found himself pondering about whether such a change was in order for him.

He shifted his weight onto his left foot and asked, "Did Roemohn ever discover whether or not the jewel was real?"

Qui-Gon smiled dryly. "It's as false as a Twi'lek's implants."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "All that trouble for nothing."

"I wouldn't say that," came Pikinel's voice from behind them. Obi-Wan turned around and if it wasn't for the railing on the balcony behind him, he would have fallen off.

_Wow._

Makeup that had previously been ineptly applied in the wrong colors was now the complete opposite. Subtle, pastel pink shaded her eyelids and pearly white accented and highlighted the area just below her recently re-shaped eyebrows. Her full lips were a deep crimson and appeared as wet as water. Her skin was no longer powdered and the red of her face shone through with an exotic beauty. Her clothes were regal but sporty, a sort of tomboyish style for the impossibly rich.

She was beautiful.

And she was smiling.

Obi-Wan grinned like a brainless idiot right back at her.

Qui-Gon, observing with his sharp eyes, missed nothing

"I needed to come home," she continued, a little embarrassed at revealing her emotions to Jedi. "And dad needed to come home, too."

"The new senator will fulfill his duties, I'm sure," Qui-Gon said.

"He won't have dad's love, though," Pikinel said. "I'm sure no one will ever match his determination."

"It's fatherly love that drives him, Miss Roemohn," Qui-Gon said. "That love is blind, and it often crashes into things," he said as an afterthought.

Pikinel laughed.

Obi-Wan stared.

_Wow_.

She was so pretty.

Why hadn't he noticed before?

"I must thank you again," Pikinel continued, carefully ignoring Obi-Wan. "You've given me back my happiness."

"You are most welcome," Qui-Gon said, bowing to her. Obi-Wan followed in suit and Pikinel curtsied. Rebine can bumbling toward them, extending a hand to the Jedi Master and the handshake was so hearty it might have chattered Qui-Gon's teeth together. He escorted him to the shuttle and Pikinel fell in step behind them with Obi-Wan.

"You're an amazing person, Obi-Wan," she said so only the two of them could hear. "I can't believe how mature you are."

If he could hear it, Obi-Wan was certain Qui-Gon would have laughed in his face.

"I thank you," she continued. "The galaxy could use more teenagers like you."

"Thank you for the compliment," he said. His nerves were as hard to hang onto as a red-hot lightsaber. He could think of nothing original to say. "I think the galaxy could use more teenagers like you."

"Thank you," Pikinel said. They had reached the ship that would take them back to Coruscant. It was a time for goodbyes, proven by Rebine Roemohn who, despite his slender, fragile appearing form, engulfed Qui-Gon in a bear hug. Then he shook Obi-Wan's hand with the ferocity of a charging gundark.

"Thank you, thank you, my Jedi friends," he said, puffing out his chest with joy.

Qui-Gon started to ascend the walkway. "Come, Padawan," he called to Obi-Wan.

"Wait," Pikinel said quickly. She fumbled with something from her pocket and then pressed a recording rod into his hands, smiling shyly for the first time at him. "Listen to this when you can."

She stepped closer to him and kissed him on the cheek. Fighting the urge to conk her on the head with his club and drag her off to his cave, Obi-Wan maintained his composed features and smiled politely to her. "I will."

Despite his stoic features, Obi-Wan knew his eyes were betraying him because Pikinel's were.

Then he turned and left, ascending the rampway into the ship, up to Qui-Gon who stood waiting. As the ship blasted off, they watched Pikinel and Rebine waving to them until the rest of the planet swallowed them up.

"Well handled, Padawan," Qui-Gon said.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan said. His cheek was still warm from where the muse had kissed him.

Which reminded him...

He took a datapad from the glove compartment of the ship's lounge area and plugged in the recording rod. The sound fuzzled for a moment, then came the oddball sound of the plucking and whiny tuning of a guitar.

"Hey, Obi-Wan," came Pikinel's voice over the gentle sounds. "This is my first, last and only recording and I won't autograph it. Sorry about that.

"Ready guys?"

"Ready!" came a few voices in Basic.

"RARRGRRRRGARGGGHHH!" came the Wookiee.

"One, two, three, four!"

Music like a war blared from the datapad's tiny speakers. Obi-Wan grinned, jerking his head in rhythm to the bass beat.

"You'll hurt yourself," Qui-Gon warned.

"Screw your parents/ screw your teacher/ screw the parking droid that gives you a fee/ screw the boys/ screw the girls/ screw the entire friggin' galaxy! Yeah yeah yeah!"

"Yeah yeah yeah!" Obi-Wan repeated.

"Feminine, isn't she?" Qui-Gon commented.

"Hey girls, tighten your bra/ you need the support you, lack it/ hey boys, loosen up/ take off your pants and jacket."

"Dearie dear me."

Obi-Wan giggled.

"No more of this, young man," his Master warned.

"What, are you worried I'll learn naughty things, Master?"

"I'm afraid you'll learn stupid things, Padawan."

"I couldn't! I'm a Jedi!"

"That doesn't protect you from the stupidity of being Human and a teenager. Your hormones have gotten all riled up because of a kiss, Padawan. Find your center of focus again. And turn it down please."

Pikinel's voice came over the speakers as Obi-Wan turned it down.

"And now, I'll slow things down a little because it seems like a Jedi-ish thing to do.

"Oh Obi/ you rescued me from the bad guys/ who had lice/ oh Obi/ you had your lightsaber a-blazing/ while I was crazin'/ oh Obi/ your Master is really really tall/ he'll trip and fall/ oh Obi/ you are my one and only Jedi/ my head guy/ oh Obi/ la la la la I don't know what to say now/ don't have a cow/ oh Obi/ do good and save the galaxy/ especially me/ oh Obi/ I could keep on going forever/ I'm so clever/ oh Obi/ I gotta admit you're very sweet/ you have big feet/ oh Obi/ your name is Obi/ Wan Kenobi/ oh... O... BEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

Her voice cracked on purpose.

"She's worse than you," Qui-Gon said, a smile escaping.

"He-ey!" his voice cracked. And he started to laugh. And so did Qui-Gon.

On the recording, Pikinel Roemohn was laughing too.

"Thank you very much! Ahh... my headphones fell off!"

The End


End file.
